


Bro Ho Ho

by backspaceunlimited



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bondage, Christmas, Drinking, M/M, Rimming, Smuppets, just porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-21 23:44:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/603369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/backspaceunlimited/pseuds/backspaceunlimited
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>merry christmas dave</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bro Ho Ho

**Author's Note:**

> just a oneshot merry christmas if that's your thing, if not, the best to you in your respective holidays

Bro always got you with the spiked apple cider. 

It was the one time of the year you actually saw him using the kitchen for its intended purpose. Early on the morning of Christmas Eve, he would always drive to Kroger and clean out the apple display, pissing off the geriatrics and cashiers in one fell swoop. You would usually wake up to the heady scent of baking apples, accompanied by swirling notes of cinnamon and nutmeg. 

This year was no different. When you pad into the kitchen wearing fuzzy Christmas socks and boxers, hopefully hiding a raging hangover behind your shades, Bro is standing over the stove, whisking a simmering pot and muttering something rhythmic to himself. 

"Y’look like hell warmed over little man." 

You aren’t used to actually talking to the guy much because he normally just leaves you notes when he wants to communicate. When he does say something its normally spontaneous, a sudden husky baritone drawl.

He turns from his pot and you notice that he got a new apron this year. Actually no, its not an apron at all, its a lacy tie-back piece of women’s lingerie, with nipple openings. And its fluorescent orange.

Its too fucking early for this. You try to ignore him while rummaging through the cabinet for ibuprofen. The sound of stirring starts up again, but when you turn back to the kitchen island, a glass of water is sitting for you on the counter. You hadn’t even heard the faucet start. Fucking mind games.

You down the medicine and Bro startles you by speaking again. "Did you go out with John last night?"

"Yea. He’s heading back home today for winter break. Hope the guy doesn’t puke on the plane." If you’re feeling like shit, you know lightweight John probably shouldn’t be in close pressurized quarters with anyone. "Anyway, I’m gonna go take a nap."

"Remember, tonight’s cider night." He produces a bottle of bourbon seemingly out of his ass and begins pouring it into the pot.

You shake your head and walk out of the kitchen, then collapse on the futon. A smuppet squeaks and you rip it out from between the cushions before chucking it across the room. Your head is pounding and you have no idea how you’re gonna be able to stomach more alcohol. Of course this is the one day out of the year where Bro makes any sort of effort. Fuck.

You lay back, resting your head on Bro’s pillow. It smells like hair gel and cigarettes, and those scents mixed with the cider have you drowsy and drifting off.

You aren’t sure how long you slept, but suddenly you feel yourself being hauled into a sitting position. A weight plops down next to you on the futon and a warm smooth object is placed into your hands. You open your bleary eyes and look down to see a steaming mug, filled to the brim with honey-colored liquid. You grumble in the back of your throat.

"I warned you bro." The asshole next to you has on the ugliest sweater you have ever seen, a clashing collage of holiday symbols from the various religious celebrations. He sips his mug delicately. "Just try it."

You take a tentative drink and find that you can’t taste the booze at all. Either its seriously weak or he’s gotten good at this. It warms you from the inside and the spices fill your nose and clear your brain and wow you’re suddenly remembering why you love Christmas.

You guess you’d better say something, considering he worked all day. "It doesn’t taste like complete shit."

He responds by leaning over you to place a kiss on your cheek. You figured that’s where all this was going to go.

Bro grabs the remote off the coffee table and begins flipping through channels, finally settling on A Rugrats Passover. The two of you refill your mugs a few times from the pot on the table, and by the end of the program you don’t want to readily admit that you’ve devolved into giggling at the television.

Bro puts him arm around you suddenly and you forget about the TV, or anything else for that matter. The man’s like a goddamn furnace when he’s got some alcohol in him, and you snake your arms around his waist, leaning your head on his chest. You feel the rough motion of his gloved hand rifling through your hair, and it sends a relaxing shiver down your spine.

"How ya doin’ lil man?" Bro’s voice is huskier than usual, thick with drink and drawl.

"Mm sleepy." You don’t care about your cool anymore, you just want to get as close Bro as you possibly can.

You hug him tighter, pressing your body against his side, until you’re practically spilling out into his lap. His chuckle is a rumble deep within his chest, and you sigh into the sensation. He smells like bad cologne and cigarettes, and those scents mixed with the cider have you drowsy and drifting off.

\-------------------------------------

Your first sensation upon stirring from sleep is _holy shit its really fucking cold why we do have a heater right fuck._

Then you realize that you’re naked.

You open your eyes tentatively and feel the searing pain of light undiluted by shades. You shut them with a grunt and try to move around and find your aviators.

Then you realize that your hands and feet are bound.

You feel something mildly sharp digging into your wrists and ankles. You squint one eye open to see what has you snared. 

Mother. Fucking. Christmas. Lights.

They glow in red and green around your wrists and ankles. Goddamn. That bastard really went all-out this year. You want to yell in frustration, but for some reason, the words don’t make it past your lips.

Then you realize that there’s gag in your mouth.

Fuck. 

You can sense someone moving next to you, but before you can open your eyes to look you feel a slight pressure on the plastic of the gag, and the sound of a small button being pushed.

Your gag starts to play a monophonic version of Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer.

You squirm around, trying to either to rip the Christmas lights from the wall socket, or maybe spit out the plastic reindeer nose in your mouth. And a blanket would be fucking nice, although the blush from realizing your predicament has warmed you considerably.

There’s a sudden motion in the air next to your ear. You stop struggling, remembering that there’s someone else in the room with you.

"Comfortable?" A shudder runs through your body as Bro nibbles at the top of your ear .

"Nrmmph" is all you can manage past the gag. 

"Good." 

You squint your eyes open again, trying to catch a glimpse of Bro. You throw your head back when you see his face startlingly close to yours. His amber eyes catch yours like a snake, and you are mesmerized by the smirk playing out within them. He tilts his head sideways, bringing his lips close enough to yours that you can feel the soft exhale as he whispers "No peeking Dave."

He’s suddenly pulling back, and bringing an over-sized Santa hat from behind his back. You yelp as he slides it over your head, tugging the fuzzy brim down just far enough so that your vision is blackened out.

Before you can start struggling again, you feel the roughness of a leather glove press down on your bare chest. You exhale around the gag, not caring that a bit of drool is leaking from the corner of your mouth. 

Not being able to see anything makes you hyper-aware of your other senses: the sound of Bro’s clothes rustling and the weight of his body as he climbs onto the mattress (The bed? The futon? Who cares.), the goosebumps forming on your skin from the cold (or from something else), the smell of apples and bourbon, the sharp pain of his teeth as he bits into your neck.

You hiss around the gag, arching your back into his chest. He licks up your neck, nibbling and sucking the line of your jaw. You feel his tongue press to the corner of your mouth, and you lean into the contact as he traces your lips around the gag. You moan into him, wanting desperately to feel his tongue in your mouth, instead of a fucking piece of plastic.

"Eager." He pulls away, and you whine into the empty space.

"Fffkk"

You feel both of his hands against your chest, and he rubs your nipples with this bare thumbs. The motion goes straight to your dick and you buck underneath him. He kisses down your throat, then moves to your stomach, nipping and leaving marks in his wake.

His hot breath ghosts over your cock, but he pins down your hips with significant force. You feel his mouth next at your thighs, kissing upwards. One hand leaves your hip to lightly trace down the line of your pubic bone, tickling the soft hair there, then curving to cup your balls. 

"Uuunnnnnmmm"

He squeezes you lightly, then leaves a few quick kisses before moving further south. His other hand lifts from your hip and nudges your legs open further.

You gasp as you feel something wet lapping in the crease of your ass, and move your legs open as wide as the bondage lights will allow. He swirls his tongue around your hole, applying pressure to the outer edges and slowly working his way to the center. You are practically squirming under his touch, so much so that he reaches up to press down on your hips again, and he digs his short fingernails into your skin.

"Mmm"

He points his tongue and presses it inside you, then moves it in a slow, circular motion. His hand that isn’t pinning you down trails fingertips lightly across your balls, then brushes from the base of your cock to the head. He’s tongue-fucking your ass at this point, and your moans coming from around the gag sound increasingly desperate.

He grips the your cock in a leather gloved palm and squeezes it rhythmically. Sliding a finger across your slit, he traces precum across the head of your erection.

"Fffkk mmm roo"

Bro chuckles into your ass, which shouldn’t have been sexy except that the vibrations of his voice go straight up to you dick, and his unshaven chin brushes against the cleft of your cheeks.

"Still eager."

He licks straight up from your ass to the tip of your cock, and you gasp and he takes the head in his mouth, flattening his tongue and rubbing the underside. You are practically a puddle beneath him, and your self control has completely snapped. He hasn’t even fucked you yet.

"Ooommm"

He starts working his mouth down your cock, slowly at first, but then increasing in speed until you are bucking your hips and thrusting into his throat. He allows it for a few seconds before pressing your hips into the mattress and slowly (so fucking slowly) sucking upwards until your dick pops from his mouth.

Suddenly all the places he was touching you are exposed, and you feel like you’re panting into an empty room. That is, until you hear the click of the cap on a bottle of lube, the sound of velcro being torn apart, and the squeak of . . . a smuppet? Hell no.

You thrash around some until one of his hands, now gloveless, is holding you down again. 

"Mmrrrrrr"

His now slick finger traces your entrance before pressing inside, and oh wow you could care less about what sort of puppet noise you may or may not have heard because now he’s putting in two fingers and holy shit you are going to cum so fast if he doesn’t stop this.

He must take your body language as a sign because he does stop. He pulls out his finger slowly, teasing at the rim. You feel his body shift, like he’s reaching for something, and then the sound of the lube bottle again. You wait for him to place his cock against you.

Something brushes your ass, but its definitely not Bro’s dick. You tense up suddenly as something slick and slightly rubbery is shoved into you with a squeak.

"Ahhhmmm"

Bro works the object in and out of you slowly, and every time he thrusts it in the damn thing squeaks. 

"You like it? Its a new model I’ve been workin’ on."

"Nnnrrrrmmphh"

"Don’t be like that, you haven’t even felt the best part."

You hear a small click that sounds like a switch being flicked. Then the thing starts vibrating in your ass.

"Uuuummmm"

Bro pushes the thing in as far as it will go, the releases it. The shaft doesn’t quite hit your sweet spot (likely intentional), but the vibrations are driving you insane. You hear the sound of a zipper and rustling clothes, followed by the lube again. There’s a squelching noise, and then Bro is climbing on top of you, grabbing at your dick roughly with a lubed hand. 

"My turn." His weight shifts over your hips and you jolt in surprise when you feel the tip of your cock brush his ass. He holds onto your dick with one hand, and steadies his body by pressing into your chest with the other.

All you can manage is a low moan as he sinks onto your cock. Holy fuck he’s so tight and all you want to do is ram inside him but he holds you firmly down and you know that he’s still in control. He’s always in control.

Slowly, ever so slowly (too slowly), he begins working himself down your length. You’re moaning and biting into the gag, and he remains silent as usual, although you think you hear his breath hitch every time he pushes more of you inside him.

After what seems like an eternity his ass hits your hips, and he begins to ride you, pulling up almost to your tip before slamming back down to your base. He shifts your angle of entry, and you swear you hear a breathy "fuck" escape his lips. 

Bro riding you like he is and the vibrating smuppet combined have your stamina rocketing downwards.

"Uuuunnnnfffff"

You feel fingertips suddenly at your mouth, and the plastic nose is wrenched from your lips. You let out a loud unmuffled moan, and Bro snaps the makeshift gag into its intended place on the tip of your nose. Rudolf starts playing again as Bro leans forwards and crushes his mouth to yours, biting your bottom lip. You move your hips wildly to meet his thrusts, becoming quickly unraveled. 

He unwraps the lights from one of your wrists and guides your hand his own cock. You pump him and when he forces his tongue into your mouth, he releases the smallest of husky groans. 

That noise pushes your beyond the brink and you’re cumming hard, tugging on his dick erratically and grinding as deeply as you can into him. You feel him spasm on top of you and something warm and sticky shoots across your chest. He lets out a full-throated moan.

You are panting in the afterglow of your orgasm, and you buck your hips one last time as Bro pulls off of your over-sensitive softening cock. The smuppet is still inside you and it sends delicious vibrations radiating up your body.

You raise your arm to move the Santa hat from your eyes, but suddenly the hands on your chest are lifted and Bro’s weight on the mattress vanishes. You feel the lights binding your wrist and feet go slack. Before your can lift up the fuzzy brim, something smooth is slapped onto your chest. It sticks to Bro’s cum.

You finally pull the hat off with your untangled hand, and see that you are laying on the futon, and your shades are sitting next to you on the coffee table. You quickly slide them on, then wrench the smuppet from your butt. It squeaks as it goes flying across the room.

The object on your chest turns out to be a note. You pull it from the drying cum.


End file.
